//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 
// Story: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic--One Last Race. 
// by Godzilla313 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 8

Spike stared in disbelief. A living legend had moved into the town, and he said nothing about it! Now he was confused. Why would he not tell anyone? This got more and more odd the longer he pondered it. He had to find out. With that, he said, "Owlowicious, watch the library," said Spike, "I'm going to get some answers."

"Who!" protested Owlowicious, looking at him sternly, as if to say, "If he wanted to tell us, he would have. Don't pry."

"Oh, don't look at me like that," protested Spike in return, "I just have to know why he went into hiding. Hey, if he did something wrong, dontcha think someone should know?"

"Who?" answered Owlowicious, this time with an eyebrow raised, as if to say, "Really?"

"*Sigh* Look, Twilight was getting some answers for her book," responded Spike, "This would just be getting that information."

Owlowicious just stared at him now, knowing well that, once Spike got something in his head to do, he was going to do it, and there was no stopping him, much to his chagrin. Spike hopped off the stool and headed for Ponyville Downs.

At the school, Twilight and Mrs. Sweedly shared a few silent moments, not knowing what to say. Finally, Twilight said, "Please, tell me he did nothing wrong."

"No, darlin'," she added, "It ain't nuthin like that at all. Though, there were some said he did so while racin'…"

She began to drift off in thought, and Twilight then asked, "Just what did they say?"

Mrs. Sweedly sighed and said, "They said he done cheated somehow. They said he used some kinda unicorn magic, or he done used some kinda potions, sumpthin'. However y'all slice it, they don't think he done it honest."

"So?" said Twilight, "I would think he'd just ignore it and move on."

"It's more than that," she said, "Remember how much teasin' he took as a young colt? I don't think he ever got over it."

"Please tell me he had friends," she asked, now starting to get it.

"Few, if any," answered Mrs. Sweedly, "Kinda was a loner 'cause a all of it."

"Somehow, I think I know why," said Twilight, things now dawning on her. If he had taken that much unwanted and undeserved abuse and accusations both in foalhood and adulthood, how could one ever be able to bear that world? Now it made sense: get out of that world, leave all the pain behind, anything attached to it, and start over with ponies who didn't know you. Yet, he never strayed far from the track, which was also odd. If he wanted a clean break, why stay close to it? It was clear to her that he still loved the game and racing. Indeed, it was what he was seemingly born to do, but how could he do it if all your special talent did was bring one grief. She pondered Clark's nephew and then said, "What does Stew think about what happened?"

"He's kinda confused," said Mrs. Sweedly, "Stewie's taken his share of flak and hoof pointin', but I guess he was just born with a thick skin. In fact, he don't say nuthin' and just lets it push him harder. It's like he's a sayin', 'If y'all think I ain't honest, prove it, and try an' beat me on the track. Put up or shut up.' Sadly, he's not all that sure why he quit. He feels he just shoulda let his racin' do the talkin' fer him."

"In other words," said Twilight, which was finished by Mrs. Sweedly, who said, "…he admires what he done on the track, but wishes that he never ran away. He looks up to his uncle in what he done on th'track, and he a love to admire him fer much more, but he does see him as a bit of a quitter. Worse, he never really knew him, so he's a got all kinda questions."

Twilight looked at the track again and saw some of the students milling around and talking, one of them being Stew. She said, "He has to know."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" answered Mrs. Sweedly, "I mean, ain't it best to let sleepin' dogs lie?"

"It's not that," answered Twilight, "I mean, there's so much in Mr. O'Leary's head about the sport that, well, not just Stew, but all these ponies could benefit. Maybe Stew could talk some sense into him."

Mrs. Sweedly sighed and said, "Not sure what good it would do but stir up a hornet's nest, but I guess there ain't nuthin' stoppin' you. I just ain't sure it's gonna end up well."

Twilight, however, was already turned about on the word "well" and was headed out to where Stew was. She had no idea why she was starting to meddle, and had her doubts, but something told her, at the very least, the family would probably love to know where Clark was, and if there was any chance for healing, it needed to come.

It was not long after class let out and Clark was back in his house, grateful he had the afternoon off, this not being a practice day. Still, he was looking to shoe up and hit the track. Yet, before he could, there was a fast knocking at the door. Clark looked through the peep hole and saw it was the baby dragon that had helped Rarity in the dressage. Yet, he seemed to be hiding it behind something behind his back. Clark, curious, opened it and said, "Well, young'un, what brings…"

But he could not finish his sentence as Spike entered as if he owned the place, all excited, saying, "My goodness, I've met other powerful ponies before, but never a living sports legend like you! Wow, this is so neat! I mean, why didn't you tell anyone?"

He held up the Sports Pony Illustrated magazine that had Clark as Athlete of the Year and said, "Can you give me your autograph? I mean, the value on this would skyrocket, and, oh, wouldn't Big Mac be jealous."

Clark just started at him, and then said, "Son, just what are y'all goin' on about? I have no idea what y'all are talkin' about."

"Aw, c'mon on," said Spike, waiving his claw, "Don't be so modest. Those magazines told me everything. Goodness, you sure had all of us fooled!"

Clark shuddered and now realized that, in his haste to get settled, he had not gone through the magazines before he donated them and pulled out any reference to himself. There was no hiding it. Yet, this did not mean it did not have to spread. He looked Spike dead in his eyes and said, "And just who else did y'all flap yer gums at 'bout this?"

Spike was shook a bit at the stern look Clark gave him, not certain what that was all about and swallowed as he said, "Um, nopony else?"

"Y'all certain about that?" asked Clark, to which Spike pumped his head up and down, and Clark became more relaxed as he asked, "Y'all put any of those on the racks?"

"No," said Spike, and Clark said, "Follow me."

Spike did as Clark opened a door, turned on a light to a room that had blankets put over them, and if this had not been Clark's home, Spike could have sworn some Clerkalariet fancolt had set up a shrine with Clerkalariet memorabilia. Spike stared in amazement as he walked around looking at the photos, paintings, trophies, and one set in a prominent place that was nothing more than a silver triangle shaped bowl on a stand marked "Triple Crown Winner," each side marked with the races that consisted of the crown. By one wall, set up in a large fame was Clark's old racing silks. As Spike stared at the crown trophy, Clark then asked, "So, now y'all know. I am Clerkalariet? What I wanna know is, what are ya gonna do now that y'all know?"

Spike did not answer that one, but instead asked, "Look at all this. I don't get it. Why… Why are you hiding it? I would think you'd be proud of all this."

"I am," answered Clark, "But, take yerself a seat in the drawin' room. I have a story t'tell y'all."

After some time passed, Spike got the whole picture, but, at the same time, felt bad for Clark. Clark had achieved more in a short time than other ponies probably did in their whole lives, and yet he could not really enjoy it. Everything he had done had been tainted, and it had nothing to do with Clark. Clark had not been the one to tarnish his wins; it was jealous fools who had no want to try to do the work it took for Clark to have what he had. Thanks to Twilight and her friends, he had not only seen much about friendship, but every aspect of the elements that made them up. In so doing, one thing he had learned clearly was that it was only hard work that was rewarded and brought the greatest gains. Not only did you earn it, but it felt much more valuable to earn what you had rather than gain it. One appreciated it more. Moreover, you gained it just by being yourself. Nopony had the right to tell you that you didn't earn it, because no other pony had done what you did to get what you had, and they had no ambition to do. What Spike didn't understand was the logic by tainting Clark's achievements. Spike then asked, "But, why did they say all those things?"

"Spike," said Clark, flatly, "There's sumpthin' y'all gotta understand 'bout this world. The press can get ugly, and what sells more papers is scandals, and not the ordinary."

At first, Spike looked quizzical at that, but then remembered what had happened with the Cutie Mark Crusaders when they worked for their school paper. They played their games with yellow journalism, and it came back to bite them hard in the hind quarters. Yet, that caused Spike to ask, "But, certainly the truth had to have come out by now. Why is this still going around?"

"It's 'cause there weren't nopony else in that business willin' t'say sumpthin' t'defend me," answered Clark, "As long as there was profit t'be made on that, they would not stop 'till they had assassinated my character totally. I'll lay you dimes t'bits that their main goal was t'destroy me, write 'bout my disgrace, then write 'bout my struggles to come back, overcome, and had I stayed in the game an' kept on winnin', my great comeback from shame to honor."

Spike shook his head, his mind swimming trying to figure out the logic in any of that. He then waived his claws in front of him and said, "Wait, hold on, I don't get this! Why the rigmarole?"

"Simply put," answered Clark, "Celebrities like m'self, once y'get such fame, live in a fishbowl. All y'all is, is sumpthin' to hang yer star on. And if y'all are the press…"

He stopped, realizing he might be confusing the young dragon more, and said, "Y'all ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword?"

"Well, I've heard Twilight mention something like that," he answered, "Not quite sure what she meant."

After staring out the window for a moment, he looked back at Spike and said, "Too many in the press these days are more out t'make money rather than print the truth. Used t'be a time where the press was an instrument a'justice; when they'd use the power of th'press t'exopse those who would harm others, makin' it hard fer dishonest ponies to scam or harm others. When y'had a good reputation with th'public, their probably gonna respect anything y'all say. Yet, th'same power t'do that can also be used to manipulate other t'doin' what ya want, and all fer personal gain."

"But, why does the general public not call them out on it?" asked Spike.

"Well, if there are enough honest ones out there," answered Clark, "then it becomes easy fer the greedy, power hungry ones t'hide behind them and say what they say, knowin' that, if they're part of an honest paper, they'll be believed without question. Then, they can make their name by manipulatin' yer life to be what they want it t'be so they can write 'bout it and gainin' fame by yer fame, 'specially if it's breakin' ya down, and then buildin' ya back up. They don't care a fig how it hurts you. It's worse when there are others who buy their garbage and then come after y'all and ride ya constantly. They ride ya 'cause the press is ridin' ya."

As he was saying this, a tear rolled down his face. It was clear that he was still hurting over the whole thing. He then said, "So, rather than give them the satisfaction, I left, let 'em write what they like, and start over in a place where they'd not be able to hurt me."

Looking right at Spike, he then said, "And that's why you can't tell a livin' soul whatcha know. I want to leave it behind and start again."

Spike was stunned and saddened that anypony could be so cruel. What did Clark ever to do anypony? "It's not fair," he said, holding back tears himself."

"I know, son," answered Clark, "But, y'all is gonna learn that, sometimes, this world ain't so nice a place. Be happy yer home is here in Ponyville. Compared t'some other places I've been, this is paradise."

After some quiet, Spike had a feeling he should move along before he had worn out his welcome. It seemed that Clark wanted to be alone and he said, "Well, um… I guess I'll just head on back now. Still have some things to do at the castle…"

Yet, as he was going, Clark said, "Wait a moment."

Clark grabbed a pen and signed the magazine, saying, "Just don't say where y'got it."

Spike smiled and nodded. There was nothing really more to say as he headed out. Yet, once Spike had closed the door behind him, after a few moments, Clark broke down, crumbled to the floor, and cried uncontrollably.

Twilight went to trackside, and once Stew recognized her for a princess, he bowed the knee, and Twilight said, "Oh, please, you don't have to stand on ceremony for me. I'm just here on a friendly visit."

"Well, y'all don't get to see a princess all that often," he said, "I figured it had to be something special."

"Actually, I'm working on a book," she said, "But, I have to say, for somepony from this area, you don't really have an accent."

"Oh, that's because I traveled around a bit as a foal," he answered, "Kinda blended it out of me, though a few things slip in now and again, like 'kinda,' and 'y'all'."

Twilight giggled at his friendly candor, and he then asked, "So, what's the book about?"

"Well, it is going to be about your uncle," she answered.

"Oh," he said, now a bit less enthusiastic, but he quickly shook it off and said, "Well, it would make sense if you came here for research."

"Well," he said, stirring a hoof in the process, "It initially was, but, well…"

She hesitated, not sure how to bring up the matter, and then said, "Well, there's a new pony in Ponyville, and he's taken over as the local track coach and phys-ed teacher in the school. He said he had been a racer at one time, and by him, I learned about your uncle. His story intrigued me no end. It just seemed sad that his story might be lost, so I figured I'd preserve it and make sure it was not lost."

Stew nodded and said, "Well, that's sensible enough," now a bit easier, knowing she was not there to try to talk about his uncle of whom he knew little save what history already knew and what his father had told him. He then said, "If he's been in the circles, (referring to racing,) then I might have heard of him. What's the pony's name?"

"Well…" said Twilight, a bit hesitantly, not sure how he would react, and she said, "You see, that's the thing; the name of the pony is Clark O'Leary."

This was followed by thunderous silence and a shocked look on Stew's face. If no one else ever had known Clark was Clerkalariet, his family certainly would have known, considering Stew bore the same last name. For Stew, there was disbelief. "You said, 'Clark O'Leary,' right?" he said, knowing that an answer was not necessary; he had heard her loud and clear, "Is this THE Clark O'Leary known as Clerkalariet, I assume?"

Stew as not sure he really wanted to know. It was as if you just told him a dead relative was suddenly brought back to life. Twilight saw he was nervous, and she said, "I didn't even know that Clerkalariet's real name was Clark, but then I came here, and I just kind of stumbled over the answer. I'm afraid he is your uncle."

Now Stew was shaking his head, now not sure how to answer, "He…I…but…" he mumbled, now at a loss for words. Twilight sighed and said, "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. It took me by surprise as well. I mean, I'm just as curious, and more so to know why he not only left the sport, but wanted to disappear."

There was more silence as Stew pondered the issue. He remembered some of the initial reports the papers had said about him in his upcoming rookie season, and he did not like how they were trying to raise him up as a wonder pony before he had ever taken the track as a professional. He had told this to his father, and his father told him what was going on, and the danger there was. He didn't mention how his uncle played into it, because his father understood, and was going to try to talk some sense into his brother if he could, but he had split before that time. Thus, to help his own son avoid the fate of his uncle, he warned him. Stew then, after some though, nodded his head, now sounding a bit more sympathetic and said, "I have a question, your highness. Tell me: what did the papers say about you when you were first crowned, and your days as a princess?"

"Oh, it was ridiculous," she said, "And a bit intrusive. They wanted to know everything…and I do mean everything…about every aspect of my life. I told them some basic things, nothing too deep, and they blew it up to where my good friend Rainbow Dash got right up into their face and told them essentially where they could stick their notebooks when they came to ask more questions. She was right angry! She told them to mind their own business and to get lost if they knew what was good for them."

"What happened after that?" asked Stew, looking at her with a look on his face that seemed to say he knew how she was going to answer.

"Oh, they got nasty," she said, "They started writing things about me in forms of questions about my private life, but asked in such a way that it seemed that this was the way things really were, and people started believing it."

"What happened after that?" he then said, nodding as if to say that he heard what he thought he was going to hear.

"Ooh, they got into some big kind of trouble!" answered Twilight, "The backlash hit Canterlot when Princess Celestia and Princess Luna got the papers and saw what was written. They both came to my palace and wanted to assure me that they knew what they printed they did not believe was true. I agreed that it was not true, and the pair called for a press conference at Canterlot, right in her throne room, especially calling for the presence of those reporters who had been responsible for the whole thing. I was there, and she wanted me to see this to I could learn how to properly execute an action like she was about to take. Once she got them in there, she ripped into them harshly. I have rarely seen her be this cross, and believe me, it takes A LOT to get her like this! She basically told them she respected the freedom of the press and speech that she always wanted all ponies to enjoy, but then there was the issue of taking license with that freedom. She told them they stood on the edge of malicious intent and wrongful defamation with their stories and she would take them to task if they could not back up every little thing they wrote and prove what they wrote was absent of malice. Wow, did they squirm! Luna chimed in and told them that their privilege as reporters was important, but it was no excuse for abusing that privilege. Celestia then gave a decree that no one was to come within fifty hoofs of me or my friends without consequences, and they were not to come to the castle or approach unless I gave them permission. Luna then added, 'and if it is found that ANY of you violated this…' and she narrowed her eyes and said sternly, 'you…will…answer…to…me!' The fear they showed at that point was incredible, and they quickly hit their knees and left out, and they've never been a problem since."

"I only wish everyone had such royal privilege," answered Stew, who then suddenly remembered who he was talking to and said, "Uh, no offense…"

Twilight laughed and said, "It's okay. I understand. But I am curious as to what you might mean by that."

He sighed and said, "What my dad told me was this: there are some who work in the press who are only in it for the fame and the money. The biggest way they can do that is by manipulating ponies' lives, especially when they are in the spotlight and admired. One place this happens is in the world of sport."

"Not sure I follow," she interrupted, "Why would that matter?"

"Normally, those who use the power of the pen like this don't like ponies who are famous who seemingly didn't work for it," answered Stew, "In reality, they know it took lotsa work, but because they themselves are not willing to do that kind of work themselves. Other ponies really have no clue, and are just jealous of somepony's success. These reporters know this, and use it to their advantage. Thus, what they do is build them up to be almost godlike, even if what kinds of things these ponies achieve was incredible. They are lifted up as idols for one purpose: to cut them down."

Now Twilight got a look on her face as if somepony had just put something smelly in her face, saying, "That's mean! Why?"

"They spend time making them seem like such good role models," he answered, "as if they are not ever able to, or even allowed to, make mistakes. Once they do, oh, do they turn vicious! If not, they try to cause ponies to doubt the integrity of their heroes. They do this do they can cut them down and say, 'See? They're just like any other pony. They're no better than you or me. What happens next is either they disappear, or they 'struggle back,' coming back into fame once again, and they again sell papers because they want to see the return of their heroes again, but they still will always have that taint. Sure, some may see that as bringing them more back down to earth and more approachable, but that does not excuse how they attacked these ponies. Whatever the case, nopony likes to think that anypony can be that good a pony."

"I still don't see why you destroy somepony for that!" she said, now starting to see what it was Princess Celestia was keeping from happening to her.

"So that they, and the ponies that read these things, can feel better about themselves, and excuse their own sorry lives if they have not done anything with them." he answered quite frankly.

Now Twilight was cross. "That's not right!" she said with a snort and a stomp, "Didn't they know what he meant to earth ponies? It was a bad time for them, and they made them realize they had worth no matter what anypony said! He helped them believe in themselves and to reach for their dreams!"

"They would have done that to you had not their majesties not stepped in," answered Stew, as if to confirm what she had been thinking, "If there is a world after this, there is much those jerks have to answer for when they get there!"

He then stopped, froze in thought, and said, "I have to see him! I have to talk to him! Please, take me back with you!"

She was going to suggest this, hoping he would be able to talk some sense into Clark, and she was now happy he wanted to do this. "It would be my pleasure!"

He nodded and galloped off to see Mrs. Sweedly and get permission to go. Twilight was now happy, because now she had a chance to help someone get over their past and live happy again.